Viva la Vida
by I Can Kill You With My Brain
Summary: Mal infiltrates high society to steal a painting with River posing as his daughter. In the words of Zoe: Oh yeah, this is gonna go great. Mostly fluff and family, and a little drama. Not dark and creepy like I normally write, so a bit of a change. As per the request of Allie-the-Allisaur.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Mal stood in the middle of Badger's den, staring down at the piece of paper in his hands in disbelief. Looking up he met Badger's sardonic eyes with his own incredulous ones.

"You have got to be kidding me," he said. Badger smiled smugly.

"So you don't want the job?" Mal shook his head and slowly tucked the paper into his pocket.

"Oh, I'll take it. I just don't know how I'll explain it to the crew."

XXXXXXXX

"Everyone meet in the kitchen right now." Mal's voice echoed out of the comms around the ship, catching the attention of all crew members.

Five minutes later they were all gathered around the table with the exception of River, who was hanging by her knees from the back of the sofa in the small living room. She stared at them all calmly, her hair making a puddle of black on the floor.

"Okay," said Mal, clapping his hands together. "Listen up. We've got a job, and good one, but it's a mite different than what we usually have." The crew stirred with interest, exchanging glances.

"How different? Are we going to have to take on passengers?" asked Kaylee, looking excited.

"Who cares about that?" Jayne said, giving Mal a suspicious look. "All I care about is whether we get paid or not. We are getting paid, right?" Mal suppressed a sigh of annoyance.

"Yes, Jayne, we are gettin' paid. And no, no passengers. We all know how much trouble _that_ leads to. Hell, with our luck we'd end up transporting someone with a bunch of space monkeys."

Laughter rippled around the table at his statement and several pairs of eyes darted to Simon and River-the former looking abashed and the latter, who was tracing patterns on the fabric of the couch, uninterested.

"Okay, settle down," called Mal, waiting for all eyes to be turned back to him. When all attention was re-focused on him, he continued. "As I was saying, this job is a bit different. As in, it's going to be mainly a two people job." Everyone looked at Zoe, who was looking at Mal, waiting for him to continue. He swallowed, already bracing himself.

"These two people will be infiltrating high society-" all eyes turned to Inara, "And they will be posing as father and daughter. So, of course, it will be me and River."

That's when the yelling started.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"Are you out of your mind?" yelled Simon, standing up abruptly. "You are completely psychotic! She's a wanted fugitive! And insane! Did I mention _insane_?!"

"Mal, you couldn't survive ten minutes at in a high society setting," snapped Inara, giving him a death glare. "And River would be caught in seconds!"

"Sir, I think there's a problem with your brain being missing," stated Zoe, her eyes cold.

"Listen to the doc!" yelled Wash, "Do you want to be in an Alliance jail? Do you?"

"If you die do I get your share?" asked Jayne hopefully.

"Captain, you can't be serious!" shrieked Kaylee, giving him a horrified look.

"Maybe we should all calm down and think this through," said Book soothingly, attempting to calm Simon down before he attacked Mal.

"I like alliteration," River stated absently, beginning to braid her hair.

"SHUT UP!" yelled Mal above the tangle of voices echoing throughout the room. Everyone fell silent, though he was still the subject of more than a few angry glares. "As I was saying, it will be me and River-"

"River and I," River interrupted suddenly, staring at him calmly. Mal restrained himself from rolling his eyes with great difficulty.

"Okay, _River and I_ will infiltrate high society because one, I am the captain and therefore decide what we do and what we don't do; two, because River has knowledge of how to behave in situations like this-"

"Kaylee's young enough," interjected Simon angrily. "And, just in case you've forgotten, River is a wanted fugitive. And insane. But, since you're the great Malcolm Reynolds, I'm sure you'll be able to explain why your 'daughter' is screaming in a corner. And I'm sure you'll be able to talk your way out of Alliance jail, because of course there are plenty of people named River Tam who look just like the girl on the arrest warrant."

"Here's a thought," said Inara, her tone frigid. "How about instead of a father-daughter con you try husband and wife, or brother and sister, or anything else that doesn't involve using a_ mentally traumatized teenage girl who is also a fugitive_?"

"Okay people, listen up," said Mal, sensing another wave of yelling was about to happen. "The only invites Badger could get his hands on were for a father and his teenage daughter. And, since we don't know any other teenage girls who grew up in a social class like this who will work with us, River is our only option. And it's a backwater little planet, minimum Alliance interference. No one will be looking for River Tam at a high-class celebration, and she won't even be going by that name. She'll be perfectly safe, you have my word." He paused, looking around the room, but no one besides River and Jayne looked convinced. "Anyone not understand?" Six hands shot up. He pointed at Simon.

"I've got a great idea. How about you just don't go?" Simon, Mal reflected, was very stubborn when he put his mind to it.

"Money's too good," he said. "Net pay is going to be around one hundred platinum. Each." Jayne's face lit up immediately. Wash and Zoe exchanged looks and Kaylee brightened, probably thinking about all the repairs she could make with that much money. Even Simon looked taken aback a little, his eyes going to River as he calculated how much medicine he could buy for her. Only Book and Inara didn't flinch. And, of course, River, but she didn't really count as she had somehow gotten her hands tied into her hair and was attempting to pull them loose.

"I still think it's a horrible idea," said Inara sharply. "How exactly do you expect to keep River's condition unnoticed for however long you're attempting to 'infiltrate' them? She's not exactly all there."

"She'll be fine," said Mal, waving off their concerns. "Besides, we'll only be there about five days. I won't let her out of my sight for a second. And you can dress her up can't you? Make her look all different. No one there is going to be looking for her."

"Five days?" said Simon, his eyes going from uncertain to angry in a blink of an eye. "What on Earth-that-was are you looking for?"

"A painting from Earth-that-was. Supposed to be really valuable or something, go for a fortune on the black market. The people hosting this event are supposed to reveal it on the last day there, so me and Riv- I mean, River and I will go swoop in and steal it at the last moment. It'll be simple."

"Do you promise to take care of her?" Simon asked finally, staring hard at Mal. "And do you promise that no one will recognize her, that she'll be safe?" Mal held in a sigh of relief.

"I promise. And if she gets caught then you have my permission to shoot me as unpolitely as you want."

The crew exchanged looks and nodded, though Simon, Inara, Book and Kaylee did so rather reluctantly.

"She'll be fine, they won't even notice she's crazy," Mal reassured them. All eyes turned to River, who seemed to be fighting with her hair, one hand still trapped firmly in the tangle of black.

"Oh yes," said Simon drily, getting up to go help River. "I'm sure they'll never notice the difference."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"So do you want to give us the details or do you plan to just figure it out as you go?" asked Zoe, still looking less than pleased about the new job, shooting a glance at River.

River was now sitting at the table with the rest of the crew, her hands firmly placed in her lap after her epic hair battle. Simon sat next to her, watching her anxiously.

"The targets' names are Mr. and Mrs. Windmere. They host a big fancy shindig every year for a bunch of rich, snobby folks who like to lord it over people and compare how much money they have."

"And that, Mal, is exactly why this plan is doomed to fail," broke in Inara, giving him a disgusted look. "You can't go ten seconds without insulting someone. You're trying to pretend you're part of this group, not showing them that you hate everything they stand for."

"That's why I have River," said Mal, patting the girl in question on the shoulder. "And besides, I can be a perfect gentleman when need be." Several of the crew looked down to hide grins.

"The whole point of the plan," Mal continued, sensing they were getting off-topic, "Is that we just hang out for a few days while I check out the security system and look for a way to get the painting out. Then, when they bring the painting out to show it off, I contact you guys and you make a big distraction during which River and I make off with the painting. Easy as taking candy from a blind guy."

"I think the expression is taking candy from a baby," interjected Simon. Mal frowned at him.

"That's just stupid. Why would you give candy to a baby?" Simon's head hit the table with a resounding thunk.

"Oh no, you'll fit in perfectly," he muttered into the wood. River looked at Mal with interest.

"Can I have some candy?" she asked hopefully. Mal frowned at them both. Things were getting very confused here.

"Anyways," he continued loudly, ignoring River's attempts to catch his attention, "We're posing as Malcolm and River Reynolds, some rich folk who just moved to Artemis from Persephone. Badger's invites will get us in, Serenity will get us out. It's minimum security, no feds. Simple, easy, no complications." He clapped his hands together and looked around the table. "See? Nothing to it."

"If it's so easy, why's the pay so good?" asked Book logically.

"Ah, that's to discourage us from running off with the painting and selling it for ourselves."

"You'll need to go shopping," said Inara suddenly. Mal froze.

"Why would we need to do that?" he asked, already imagining himself on a shopping trip. _No way in hell_, he promised himself.

"Well, you need clothes to 'blend in', and I'm pretty sure you don't have any clothes even remotely resembling something that a man of your station would wear. And I know River doesn't," Inara said, glancing at River, who was poking Simon and looking distinctly un-high-society-like in the too big dress that she wore around the ship most of the time. And her combat boots. Can't forget those.

"Well, she needs stuff. But I sure as hell don't. I have that suit that I wore for the party with the sword duel," Mal protested. Inara scowled at him.

"No, you need more than that. When we land, Simon can help you pick out something to wear in the local shops. I can help River." Kaylee glanced at her, her expression hopeful. "And Kaylee too, of course."

Mal stared around the room at the expressions that ranged from amused (Wash and Zoe) to horrified (Simon).

"What did I ever do to you?" he asked them in disbelief. Gathering up all his dignity he stalked out of the room, pretending not to hear the giggles behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

As Serenity approached Artemis, Mal noticed a definite change in the way his crew was behaving.

Kaylee was constantly beaming at him and giggling, and the Captain Tight-pants references had become more and more frequent. Wash developed a pressing need to leave the room whenever he entered, and he could hear him laughing hysterically all the way down the hallway as he ran out. Zoe just stared at him, a smirk constantly tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Simon and Inara had taken to huddling into corners whispering to each other, breaking off whenever he approached. He had the uncomfortable feeling they were discussing him, and he became more positive he was right when he noticed them staring at him; Inara skeptically, and Simon with something approaching a combination of despair and horror.

Jayne and Book were almost the same as normal, except for the times when Wash started snickering or Kaylee called him Captain Tight-pants, and then they both realized that they needed to be somewhere _right now._

But the worst was River, and he knew, just _knew_, that the reason Wash kept breaking down into hysterics whenever he saw Mal was completely her fault.

The feng le girl followed him_ all the time_. Just trailed along behind him, her bare feet making absolutely no sound on the floor. He would think she was gone and turn around and WHAM! she was right there, rocking gently back and forth and giving him a creepy smile that wouldn't be remiss on the face of a psychopath about to blow up the world.

And it didn't help that she kept calling him Captain-Daddy. He could understand once, even twice, but every time she talked to him? It was driving him crazy. And did the rest of the crew help? Of course they didn't. Not even her overprotective brother.

Simon just started smiling like insane whenever he walked into the room with moonbrain trailing along behind him, humming or spinning or doing whatever it was she did to pass the time.

The only times he got away from River was when her brother took her down to the infirmary or when she was sleeping, which never seemed to be often. Even when he was in his bunk he could swear he heard her breathing outside.

When he let this slip to Zoe, however, during one of the rare times River was absent, she had just snorted and told him that was ridiculous.

"You can hear her breathing?" she'd asked him, smiling slightly. He had smiled back and felt a little less freaked out, if maybe a bit silly.

"Yeah, I know. She's not really outside my room, is she?" Zoe gave him a look that told him he was totally crazy.

"Of course she's outside your room, sir," she said, turning and walking towards the door. "But breathing? The girl's a government-trained assassin. I doubt you could hear her breathing."

That conversation had gone about as well as the conversation he'd had with Kaylee about _why_ the girl was following him and why in this sphincter of hell everyone seemed to find it hilarious.

"Well, I think they mostly find it cute," she giggled to him. Mal stared at her, knowing this was one of those times the universe decided to come right out and say that it hated him.

"Cute?" Kaylee nodded at him, smiling happily.

"Well, yeah. It's kinda like those baby ducks, ya know?" He shook his head back and forth, feeling like maybe, to someone, this conversation would make sense. Someone _not him_.

"I mean, ya see these little baby ducks imprint on like dogs or something, and it's so cute! And that's kinda what River did. She's like a baby duck, and you're the dog."

"She's a baby duck?" he asked faintly. Kaylee nodded enthusiastically. Mal looked up as River skipped down the stairs and headed towards them, her creepy psychopath smile firmly in place. Mal could almost hear the evil laughter.

"A cannibal baby duck," he muttered too low for Kaylee to hear. River, however, did, and her smile got even bigger. "From hell," Mal amended, and then took off to his cabin.

He could hear River giggling as she chased him, and he took a moment to feel righteously indignant that the captain was allowing himself to be terrorized by a girl half his size and twice as crazy.

Then he remembers that it's River he's thinking about, and he tries to decide whether it would be too paranoid to spend the rest of his trip holed up in the empty shuttle with some food. But he won't do it. She'd probably find her way in there if he sealed the whole place with solid steel.

He pauses outside his bunk and hears Wash snickering from down the hallway, Zoe's quiet laugh joining in, and above it all River's child-like humming, and decides that this is going to be the longest week of his life. Ever. And that includes the time where it snowed so hard on Shadow he was locked up into his tiny cabin with his bratty little sister and his mother and five ranch hands.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

_Guns flashed and banged, sharp noises cutting through the night and throwing shadows across the hard packed earth. Bullets ricocheted and sent men toppling, fingers still curled around the triggers of their guns._

_ He crouched, waiting, behind the barricades, fingers fumbling as he tried to put more bullets in. Around him fellow soldiers lay, some dead, others only wounded._

_ The bullets slipped out of his fingers as another blast of cannon fire ripped through the air, and he cursed, diving to the ground and feeling blindly, trying to see the small pieces of metal in the dim light._

_ His hand meets leather and he looks up up up into the face of…River? _

_ "Time to wake up," she sing songs, and then a hand reaches out and grabs his hand and he's-_

awake. Mal jerks upright with a gasp, hand going at once to the gun by his bedside table. But his hand closes around air and he finds himself pinned down by a heavy weight, staring up into a pair of large brown eyes. He almost yells but there is something holding his mouth shut and it takes everything he has to figure out how to breathe.

The blind panic and battle instincts fade from his head slowly and he glares up at River, trying to put all of his righteously indignant Captain-y anger in a stare that he feels sure should have her withering into a little heap of bones.

She smiles down at him and pulls away, settling into a comfortable little ball at the end of his bed, her knees drawn up to her chin and her hair hanging all around her, staring at him with amused eyes and a slightly mocking smile.

Pulling himself up with all the injured dignity he can, Mal reaches for his gun again and, realizing it isn't there, aims another withering glare at River.

At this time she has the grace to look a little apologetic, and she hands him the gun from where it has been placed next to her.

"What did I say about guns?" he snaps, noticing with a feeling of relief that it is unloaded. Still, the thought of River, in all her psychopathic wonder, holding a gun makes him feel more than a mite unsafe.

"Shoot Jayne with them?" she asks hopefully. He blinks at her, wondering for a second if she is serious, but she just smiles back at him, and he feels his lips twitching.

"Close, but no." He puts the gun away and draws his legs up to his chest, leaning his head back against the headboard of his bed. "Now, you want to explain why you're in my cabin in the middle of the gorram night, waking me up from a nice relaxing sleep?"

"Wasn't sleeping." He resists the urge to roll his eyes with much difficulty.

"You weren't sleeping, so you thought you'd just wake me up for kicks and giggles?" She nods, hair swishing around her, and beams at him.

He ponders that for a second. Crazy girl comes to the mean ol' broken captain suffering from nightmares. Probably some moral kicking around in there somewhere. Maybe they were supposed to have milk and cookies and talk about all their troubles and reach the conclusion that they were broken, but together they could heal.

And then what, skip away into the sunset while unicorns sang love songs? Oooh, maybe there would be _rainbows_. And birds chirping in the trees.

He shuddered. The horror of it all. _THE HORROR._

"I like unicorns," River said, staring at him earnestly. "They're sparkly and white and happy."

"The only good unicorn is a dead unicorn," Mal asserted. River stared at him with wide eyes.

"Do you think their blood is pink?"

There were three ways to answer this question: engage, evade, or ignore. Whether it was the late hour or the lack of sleep or both, Mal decided to engage.

"No, it's rainbow-colored and everywhere it touches an apple tree grows."

"Really?"

"What? No!" He could feel a migraine coming on. "Get out," he said, pointing to the ladder. "You're leaving now."

River stared at him sadly.

"You want me to leave?" she asked sadly.

"Yes," Mal snapped. She kept staring at him and he could feel his resolve crumbling. Whenever he snapped at Kaylee and she gave him the puppy dog eyes, he felt like a bad bad man. But this, this was much much _much_ worse.

River looked like he'd told her Santa Claus wasn't real, her birthday was cancelled, and that there was to be no more candy for Halloween _ever again._ And then hit her dog with train. And then backed up and run over him again. And then laughed. While she watched.

"Oh, don't cry," he tried, seeing her eyes watering. She stared at him, tears welling up, and sniffled. "I'm sorry," he said quickly, patting her awkwardly on the arm. A tear trickled down her face. "You don't have to go," he said desperately, hoping to god she wouldn't start crying hysterically and bring the whole boat running.

He needn't have worried. At his words her whole face lit up and the tears vanished. She beamed up at him brightly, and he felt himself smile back.

"There, see? Ain't no need for crying." She giggled and kept staring at him, snickering quietly to herself.

"What?" he said, beginning to feel slightly self-conscious. He'd just let the girl stay in his bunk, shouldn't she maybe _not_ be laughing at him?

"School is fun," she told him, still giggling softly. He frowned, confused by why she would be laughing at this.

"Well, you being a genius and all I guess it might be. Didn't much like it myself though." She tilted her head to the side, still giggling softly.

"You won't like this one either. Too many rules, too much stuff to learn in too little time. Don't worry, I'll help. Just don't bring any apples, they have grenades."

Filing away her comment on the apples for later worry, Mal leaned forward and grabbed her shoulders, terror gripping him as a sudden thought crossed his mind.

"This school?" he managed. River giggled again, grinning up at him.

"Can't tell, it's a secret."

"Oh yes, you most certainly can tell," Mal said quickly. River frowned up at him and shook her head, eyes still sparkling.

"_Se-cret,_" she stressed. "Can't tell…can show?" Mal nodded, already getting up.

"Oh yes, can show. Most definitely. Up you get, come along little crazy girl. Show me your secret school."

River jumped up and danced up the ladder, vibrating in place as she waited for him to make his far more ungainly climb up to join her. When he arrived she grabbed his hand and danced down the corridors towards the kitchen, bare feet making no sound on the floor.

As they got closer, Mal realized the lights were on and there were the sounds of people softly talking emanating from the room. He turned to look at River, but she just smiled and shoved him forwards, sending him tripping over the doorframe and flying into the room.

He stumbled, caught himself, and looked up into the eyes of Inara and Simon. They were both seated at the kitchen table, a variety of pens, paper, two cortexes, and four cups of tea spread out on the tabletop.

Simon gave him a nervous smile and took a nervous gulp of tea, but Inara just gave him a serene smile and a small nod. River skipped around him and joined Simon at the table, looking like the proverbial cat that ate the canary.

"Oh," said Mal, his brain finally giving up and letting in the blood-chilling thought from earlier, a thought he had been valiantly fighting off. "This school."

From her perch at the table, River let out a peal of hysterical laughter. It sounded rather like the devil would after he had just signed the deal handing over his soul.

And taking in the three faces before him (River's delighted, Inara's serene, and Simon's shell-shocked horror-filled one) he rather felt he would prefer that.

**A/N: I know this chapter wasn't very long, but never fear, they will be getting longer and more plot-oriented. And because I recently realized I don't write disclaimers (whoops!) I don't own anything. Except the unicorns. And not even those. But if you want one, ask North Korea. (I don't know if they sing love songs though, it may cost extra).**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"So, what's going on in here? There a party I don't know about?" Mal asked casually, smiling cheerfully and examining exits out of the corners of his eyes. Maybe if he made a break for it…

"Running is a coward's way out," River sang from her perch, smiling sweetly at him. Mal narrowed his eyes at her.

_Damn psychic._ Maybe if he…no. It was a spaceship. In space. Nowhere to run. Although, if he was desperate, there was always some suits. He could-

"Mal," said Inara, interrupting him from his escape plans. "We need to talk." If at all possible, Simon's face went whiter.

"Um, that is, if you want to, because you're the captain, and we don't want to order you, or, or, um…" he trailed off uncertainly, his eyes flickering above and around Mal as he avoided looking him straight in the eyes.

For a second, Mal felt a surge of sympathy for him. He obviously wanted to be here even less than Mal did, and he figured Simon was probably here under protest, pressured into it by Inara. Or, he decided, glancing at the grinning River, his sister had given him puppy dog eyes and he'd gone like a sucker. Just like he had.

River beamed at him, and he narrowed his eyes at her. _Bad River_, he thought. River stuck her tongue out at him and went back to grinning at nothing in particular.

"Sit down," said Inara, pointing to a chair.

"Please," added Simon.

Mal sat, determinedly holding onto his cheerful façade.

"So, is this a party? Possibly for me being the very best cap'n ever?"

"Um, no, not exactly, no," stammered Simon. Mal felt that sympathy for him again. For a second. And then he realized that if it was between him or Simon on the hot seat, he could live with it being Simon. Actually, he could more than live with it. Simon taunting had used to be one of his favorite hobbies, until Kaylee had started giving him eyes like a kicked puppy whenever he made fun of him.

Those puppy dog eyes, they were going to be the death of him. If River made her eyes big enough and started crying, he'd probably jump off a cliff.

"So, I'm not the best captain ever?" he asked, switching his gaze from Simon to Inara to River and back to Simon. "Now that's just hurtful. You go around saying stuff like that and people might get all offended like."

"That's not what we're saying!" blurted Simon before Inara could respond. "I mean, you're a great captain-"

"Just not the best?" Mal interrupted. Simon's eyes widened.

"No, yes, sure, you're the best. We all think so, don't we River? Inara?" He looked around desperately for help. Inara closed her eyes, probably struggling to hold on to her calm. River snickered and jumped off the table to go sit next to Mal.

"Mal, please, this is serious," said Inara, calmly cutting off what was sure to be more of Simon's rambling.

"I'll say this is serious, you lot going around saying I'm not the best captain ever," said Mal, injecting his voice with as much wounded pride as he could. Next to him, River broke out into a fit of silent giggles. Glancing at her, Mal could feel a smile tugging on one corner of his mouth.

"Mal," snapped Inara. She took a deep breath and started again, calmer than before. "Please, we really need to talk. This is important. Simon and I thought-" Simon shot her a horrified look and she sighed again. "I mean _I_ thought that you would need some help pretending to be a member of upper-class society, and Simon agreed to help me. And believe me Mal, you need all the help you can get." She looked expectantly at him, waiting for his answer. It was quickly forthcoming.

"Let me get this straight, you and the doc here want to teach me how to behave with all those fancy rich people?" Inara nodded, looking pleased, and Simon gave him a hesitant smile. River had tears streaming down her face as she struggled to hold her laughter in.

"Hell no!" He stood up, turning towards the door. "I'm going back to bed, don't wake me up unless there's a real emergency or if someone on this ship decides to throw me a party."

He stamped down the hallway, and then whirled around as a thought occurred to him.

"And doubt you follow me li'l witch!" he called to River, before climbing down his ladder and slamming the hatch to his room, making sure to lock it.

Back in the kitchen, Inara looked at Simon, who was sitting there with a relieved expression on his face.

"Well we tried," he said, sounding distinctly happy. Inara pushed down the feeling of exasperation within her. _Companions are better than this_, she reminded herself.

"Yes, we did," she agreed. She turned to look at the door to the kitchen where Mal had stormed out. "Now it's on to Plan B."

Simon's head hit the table with an audible thunk. "I'm dead," he groaned.

River, who had managed to get herself back under control and was balancing cross-legged on the back of one of the chairs let out a shriek of laughter and fell with a muted thump to the floor.

Inara turned and left the kitchen, leaving Simon to pull himself and his sister back together. She would have her way, and Malcolm Reynolds would not know what had hit him.

**A/N: Yes, Simon was a bit freaked out and maybe a tiny bit OOC, but imagine what it's like for him: telling Malcolm Reynolds what to do…it's like walking through a minefield.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Mal climbed the ladder with one hand, shrugging his coat on as he went. Reaching the top he clambered out, sealed the door behind him, turned forward, and almost tripped over River, narrowly biting back a curse.

She was lying on her back, her legs folded up so that her knees were perpendicular to the floor, staring up at the ceiling. Her hands were tracing patterns in the air, her eyes narrowed in concentration.

"Baby duck," Mal muttered. "Oh yeah, totally helpless baby duck who goes around lying on the floor _endangering people's neck health._" There was no answer from River.

"What are ya doing 'tross?" Mal asked, keeping his voice level. River didn't even blink, still intent on her fingers. He reached out a foot and nudged her in the side.

"Come on River, doc wouldn't like you lying on that floor. It's dirty, you hear? Lots of germs." He bit back a smile as River's eyes slid away from the ceiling to give him a disgusted look.

He offered her a hand. "Come on, get up. You'll miss breakfast." River eyed the hand and then returned her gaze upwards, her hands resuming movement.

Mal rolled his eyes and began walking away, heading towards the kitchen. Just because she was happier lying on the floor and missing breakfast didn't mean he was.

About halfway down the hallway sounds began floating from the kitchen; the clattering of plates, Inara's voice, Kaylee's-.

He stopped dead in the corridor. Inara's voice. She was there, and he was betting she was still plenty angry about the direction last night's conversation had taken, although in his defense he hadn't started it, just ended it. At least, he thought he had. But Inara was like a dog with a bone, and he knew she was gonna let it go when pigs flew and hell froze over.

It wasn't that he was scared of her. He was Malcolm Reynolds, captain of Serenity. His word was law. He had faced down the Alliance and guns and certain death, survived torture without a word, seen things he wasn't likely to ever forget, and what was he saying of course he was scared.

He glanced between the kitchen and his room and back again. Maybe if he locked himself inside he could hold out until they landed on Artemis, just wait out the storm.

But then Kaylee would probably sit outside his door and even if he couldn't see her he would _know_ she was giving him the puppy dog eyes, and he'd open the door like the sucker he was and walk right into Hurricane Inara.

Honestly, what was he thinking when he filled his crew with women? Between the puppy dog eyes and the sheer stubbornness and Crazy following him around he was almost afraid to go anywhere on the boat in case he was assaulted.

He took one step closer to the kitchen, heard Inara say something, and beat a hasty retreat back to his room, where River was still lying staring up at the ceiling. If he was going into the warzone he needed the closest thing he had to an ally with him.

Besides, if things got violent she could probably help him get out of there, if she wasn't too busy rubbing soup in her hair or prattling about unicorns.

For the love of god, why had he told her unicorns had rainbow blood? _Why?_ She was going to be stuck on that for days. Maybe if he told her the easter bunny ate children she'd forget the unicorns. But then she'd probably want to experiment and get him to buy her a bunny rabbit and feed it meat to see if she could make it cannibalistic. And then she'd probably sic it on them whenever she didn't get her way. And then breed them and take over the known universe and all would bow down before the race of rabbits.

Oh god, how did he even come up with that? Lack of sleep, he told himself sternly. He was not going crazy. He wasn't. He looked over his shoulder back at the kitchen and felt a hysterical giggle rise in his throat. Oh yes, he was going crazy. It was the only reason why he would have taken this job, this job that was going to drive him to gray hair. And he was too pretty for gray hair.

"Your hair won't turn gray," River offered from the ground. She held one hand out to him and he took it, pulling her to her feet. She looked up at him calmly, her gaze half there and half not. "Genetics dictate, their word is law. Your hair will be white." She smiles up at him and tugs on a bit of his hair. "You'll look dashing," she giggles, and runs down the hallway before her words have even half-registered.

"I will not have white hair!" Mal yelled after her, his words echoing around the ship. He frowned and started following her. Inara could wait, this was a serious matter. If his hair was going white he wanted to know about it. There was also the matter of the killer bunny rabbits. The mere thought of "River" and "killer bunny rabbits" in the same sentence made him shudder.

He entered the kitchen quickly and made his way over to the table, sitting down in his chair.

River was sitting across from him next to her brother, smiling at him and ignoring her brother's attempts to get her attention. The rest of the crew were already seated, and he avoided Inara's eyes as best he could, although he could feel them burning into him.

"Hey cap'n, how'd you sleep?" piped up Kaylee, giving him a bright smile. There was a clatter as Simon dropped his fork, and a giggle from River. Mal shot him a smug smile and turned to Kaylee.

"I had a revelation, actually. Here I was going around thinking I was the best captain ever, and it turns out that certain members of the crew don't think so. Can you believe it?" He could almost _feel_ Simon shrinking into himself.

"Well I think you're the best cap'n ever," declared Kaylee, throwing her arms around him. She pulled away and frowned at Jayne. "Dont'cha think Jayne?"

"Hell, he's alright," Jayne replied, dropping more protein on his plate.

"Thank you for that glowing commendation, Jayne," Mal said. Jayne blinked at him.

"Sure," he said. Mal repressed an eye roll with great difficulty. River had no such qualms, and Simon choked on his water.

"About last night," Inara began, but River cut her off immediately.

"I want a pet," she said. Mal shot her a grateful look which she ignored, her entire attention focused on Simon.

"Well, River, I don't think-" he started, but Kaylee leaned across the table, interrupting.

"What type of pet?" she asked curiously. River beamed at her.

"I want a bunny."

"Shiny!" exclaimed Kaylee. Mal choked.

"No, not shiny. Absolutely no bunnies, uh-uh, hell no. Vetoed, final word. No pets."

Simon shot him a grateful, if rather confused look, but both Kaylee and River turned to him with sad expressions. He closed his eyes immediately, but he could already feel their powers working away.

"No bunny?" River said sadly. Mal shook his head, not trusting his mouth to say the right thing should it be opened.

"Okay," she said, and he opened his eyes cautiously. She looked at her plate, then looked back up. "The girl understands that not all would appreciate being dictated by an inferior race of cannibalistic rodents, no matter how many pieces of fur per square inch of skin said rodents had."

"Oh, good then," said Mal. Inara cleared her throat, and River quickly opened her mouth again.

"Can I have a fish?"

"No."

"A snake?"

"Hell no!"

"A kitty-cat?"

"No."

"What about a beagle?" This from Wash, leaning forward and ignoring Zoe's look of disbelief.

"Yes!" River shrieked, bouncing up and down in her seat and looking back and forth from Mal to Simon to Wash and back.

"We'll take good care of it," Wash promised. "And we'll feed it, and we'll walk it, and remember they have smallish droppings?"

"I don't want to be sharing a ship with no dog," said Jayne, taking fourths of everything in his immediate vicinity.

"We could train it as an attack dog," Wash suggested. River switched her gaze to Jayne, who thought about it then shrugged.

"That'd be cool," he admitted. River let out a squeal and high-fived Wash, and Kaylee started giggling.

"What're ya gonna call him?"

"Hang on a second, who said we could get a dog?" demanded Mal indignantly. "We are not getting a dog."

"But Mal," whined Jayne. "It'd be an attack dog. We could call it Killer."

"Prometheus," asserted River. "Fire. I like fire."

"No!" said Mal, glaring at them all and putting the fire thing to the back of his mind in that special folder called: River-Morbid and Creepifying. Deal With Later, When Dead.

There was a grumble of assent from Jayne and Wash, a sigh from Kaylee, expressions of relief from Simon, Zoe, and Book, and a glare from River, who folded her arms and stuck her tongue out at him.

"Okay, anyone else got something to say that don't pertain to pets?" Mal asked, tactfully ignoring River. Or rather just ignoring her.

"I do," said Inara quickly. Mal closed his eyes and groaned; he'd walked right into that. "I have a matter that I think should be addressed to the crew for your input. It concerns Mal and the upcoming job."

Mal looked around for an escape, saw River and Zoe eying him speculatively, and gave up. He was dead. Completely and utterly dead.

**A/N: Once again, don't own Firefly or the unicorns. As for the killer rabbits, I don't think they exist. And I'm certainly not trying to make them. Heh heh. /shifty look around. You can't prove anything. At all. Just because I have a rabbit doesn't mean anything. Circumstantial evidence. Look at Mal, he's the one who thought it up. Just because he's not real doesn't mean he isn't planning something. They're all up to something. It's a conspiracy. /puts on tinfoil hat. BUNNIES ARE TAKING OVER! RUN! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! /runs out of room screaming.**

**A/N the second: On reflection, I come off as paranoid and slightly insane. That's because I am, and I am. But mostly it's the late time talking. Because of course killer bunny rabbits aren't real. /nervous laughter. Totally made up. Promise.**

**A/N the third: I just re-read the whole fic and my author's notes. I really need to go to bed earlier. And stop eating sugar before I try and write. Go on with your lives now.**

**A/N: The fourth: Is anyone even reading this anymore? If you are, I commend you. I just sent you a million cookies. Yes, I know where you live. I'm awesome that way. Or do I mean stalkerish? Eh, to-may-to to-mah-to.**

**A/N the fifth: If you are reading this, there is a limit. You're either A) a fan, B) a stalker, or C) reading this from a mental hospital. Either way, I'm flattered. Really. Not calling the cops at all. Just wait there for the straitjacket…I mean, the cookies. Yes, that's what I meant. The cookies.**

**A/N the sixth: Also, Soylent Green is people. I know, shocker right? **

**A/N the seventh: If you're still reading this, get on with your lives or I will have River come down and kill you with her brain. I'm not entirely sure how that works, but I'm sure it's awesome.**

**A/N the eighth: GO AWAY. AWAY I SAID!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"What'd you want ta say 'Nara?" asked Kaylee curiously, leaning towards her friend.

Mal gave Inara a death glare. _Don't you dare_, he tried to warn her telepathically.

Inara smiled smugly. _Make me_.

He imagined her head exploding. It didn't work. He concentrated harder.

"As you know, Mal and River will be infiltrating a high society setting in a few day's time," Inara began. Mal narrowed his eyes and tried to will it into being.

"And I was thinking, and I am sure you will all agree with me, that Mal has no knowledge of how to act like a member of that caste beyond how to rob them and basic words, like please and thank you." She paused, thought about it, and then frowned slightly. "And not even that," she tacked on.

_Just one tiny explosion. _

"So, I had a talk with Simon-" Simon turned white and made a throat cutting gesture. Inara plowed on determinedly. "And we thought perhaps Mal could benefit from lessons."

He had a headache coming on. He tilted his head and tried to zero in.

"But when we tried to broach the subject with Malcolm last night, he wouldn't listen to us. So I thought perhaps you would all be willing to help us convince him."

Every eye in the room turned towards him. He sat up quickly and tried to fix his face. He was pretty successful, but his right eye kept twitching.

"Are you okay sir?" asked Zoe, torn between amusement and worry. Mal put his hand up to his spastic eye and tried to get it under control.

"Didn't you say something about being able to kill folk with that big brain of yours?" he asked River. She giggled. "I wasn't joking," he told her.

"I think it's a shiny idea," gushed Kaylee, interrupting him before he coaxed River over to the Dark Side. She beamed at him cheerfully.

"Mal? Taking lessons from Simon and Inara?" Wash looked back and forth, his eyes wide. "I'd pay money to see this!"

"I think it's a good idea," Book stated thoughtfully. "Of course, there is a limit you can teach a man in five days, but I think it would certainly help with your cover."

"Why in the hell does he need some lessons in being all fanciful-like?" snorted Jayne.

"It couldn't hurt," said Zoe, purposefully not looking at him.

"Meep," went Simon. He looked like he did whenever Kaylee got too close, all white and terrified. It was an excellent look. Mal made a note to instill that look on his face permanently.

"So it's decided then," said Inara cheerfully, completely ignoring Jayne and Simon. Mal looked around in horror and his gaze locked onto River.

"What about River?" he asked quickly. "I don't want her to go to another school, not after what happened last time."

Everyone stopped breathing. Inara gave him her worst glare.

"I don't think we'll be cutting into her brain," she spit out.

"Are you sure? Really? Cause those shoes you got are plenty long and sharp enough." Inara looked like her head was about to explode. Mal felt marginally more cheerful.

"Oh god River," Simon stuttered, staring at his sister. "You don't have to go. Really, you can play dinosaurs with Wash. I'm sure he'd be happy to play with you." He shot a desperate look at Wash, who nodded his rapid agreement, looking thrilled.

All the happiness Mal was getting from Inara's near self-combustion evaporated.

"What the hell do ya mean she doesn't have to come? That's, that's prejudice, that's what that is. Prejudice!" He shot a smug look at Inara. "See, I know big words."

She let out something like a snarl and he hurriedly turned his attention back to Simon, who was still freaking out over his sister, who was stealing the food off of his plate and passing it to Jayne behind his back.

"River, you don't have to come with us if you don't want to," Simon said hurriedly. "You certainly know most of it, you'll be fine. Mal can survive by himself."

River stopped handing food off to Jayne and looked at Simon, who was still looking scared, to Mal, who was shaking his head rapidly, to Inara, who was concentrating on making Mal's head explode with her mind.

"I'll go," she said. Mal breathed a sigh of relief and dropped his head to the table. It was nice to know he had at least one ally in this place. He shot a baleful look at the rest of his crew. Bunch of backstabbers the lot of them.

He got up with as much dignity as he had left and gave them all his best captain-y stare.

"I'll be in my bunk," he said, and left the room. River popped up next to him, spinning in dizzying circles next to him as he beat a hasty retreat, before they made him agree to doing something crazy like jumping off a cliff. Although, in retrospect, that'd probably solve all his problems.

"I still want a bunny," River told him, giving him a hopeful smile.

"Jayne stole my food!" Simon yelled from the kitchen, and there was a loud crash as Jayne defended his honor and Simon defended his food.

Mal looked around for the nearest cliff.

**A/N: Still don't own Firefly. You know how you could tell if I did? They crew would all cross over to the Dark Side. Yes, that's right. The Dark Side. You know why? The Dark Side has cookies. Who doesn't love cookies? Besides cannibalistic rabbits and paranoid conspiracy theorists who think the cookies are alien spies? Although…fortune cookies do tell you what to do. But I refuse to believe they are alien spies. That's a load of rubbish…they're obviously mini-prophets! All hail the religion of the fortune cookie. Their word is law. What if one told me to go jump off a cliff you ask? I'd do it. Indeed I would. I respect the fortune cookie. Bow before them! BOW I SAID!...I know you're not bowing. Yes, you. I have eyes inside you're computer. I know all. Well, actually, I see all. The Fortune Cookie of Awesome knows all. But I see it. So BOW! If you don't bow, I will send the minions of my cult (yes, the fortune cookie religion is a cult. Take that all ye who say the internet does not provide all!) and have them sing the Song That Never Ends until you crack and bow. SO BOW!**

**(And all of you who wish to blame me for starting a cult religion to honor the Fortune Cookie of Awesome, blame my sister, who gave me chocolate and told me to write)**

**A QUESTION(S) FOR ALL WHO ACTUALLY CARE:**

**Facts: The Dark Side offers cookies. The crew is on the Dark Side. SOOOOO….**

**Who bakes the cookies? Aliens? Brad Pitt?...ME?! (a.k.a: The Genius Who Started the Fortune Cookie of Awesome Cult)?**

**Do you really want to know the answer to question A?**

**Since the Blue Hand guys are the bad guys, doesn't it stand to reason they're on the Dark Side?**

**But, River can't be on their side (not unless we want her to kill everyone with her brain, which would be awesome but still), so does the Dark Side have a Dark Side?**

**If so, what do they offer? More cookies? Cookies with poison? FORTUNE COOKIES OF AWESOME? Boxes of blue gloves? We may never know…**

**How do we join the Dark Side? The Dark Side of the Dark Side? WE WANT OUR COOKIES!**

**And the most important question of all: Is the Fortune Cookie of Awesome Cult actually a religion/cult? Or did I make it up? Not even I really know…**

**Remember, sharing is caring. And as for the FCoA, muahaha…you'll never know, until we take over the world. Yes, a plan is indeed in action. It's an excellent plan. We have the force of the Dark Side with us after all. And the power of fortune cookies. And singing unicorns. And carnivorous bunnies. You never know who's in on it. Check your neighbors. Look at your friends. Stare at your television screen and wonder…do you really know who you can trust? Do you really know who isn't in the FCoA? And do you, yes you, know why you're reading this?**

**The answer to all is 42. Indeed. And as for the plan to take over the world, the one involving bunnies and unicorns and the Dark Side, that's only Plan A…**

**And for all you people who don't know what that means, it stands for Plan Awesome. Mostly because it's awesome. Also cause it's the only plan I got. I'm just gonna point everything I have at the world and say "Go my minions, go. Make them rue the day they laughed at the fortune cookie! RUE I SAID!" /evil laugh.**

**And if that doesn't work, well…there's always a market for failed doomsday planners. It's called WalMart: Middle Management.**

**So go now, spread the word of the fortune cookie. Live your lives waiting in fear for the end of the world at the hands of a cannibalistic bunny. And wonder…do you really know who works at your WalMart? DO YOU?!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Mal was sitting on his bed, working on figuring out how much money they had left and what it could be spent for, after, of course, he paid the crew.

This job would be good, and would pay a lot, but first he had to get the merchandise and deliver, and in the meantime his crew needed to eat, and drink, and preferably not die in a screaming flaming heap falling from the sky.

He scratched a few figures down into his account book (despite common belief, he did actually know how to do math, he wasn't Jayne after all). The account book may be indecipherable to all others, and would surely give bankers and accountants alike a heart attack, but he could read it.

Sure, he didn't like writing on all those little lines and boxes, and filling in all those things marked Food and Budget. Just because his writing spiraled all over the place and the answer to a problem may not be on the same page it's written on doesn't mean that it's not an account book…it's just special. Like him.

He was just trying to figure out how to find the extra money he needed for a new engine piece Kaylee had been bugging him for, with dire warnings of explosions should he fail to procure said item, when a knock sounded on his door.

"Come in," he called reluctantly, already awaiting the arrival of Inara into his quarters, calling him to the torture chamber she was calling "lessons".

Instead of Inara's elegantly-clad feet, he was instead treated to the sight of a long length of black hair falling into the room, seemingly unattached as it dangled from the entryway.

He couldn't help it, he smiled.

"Hey Albatross," he said, putting down his account book and neatly marking his place with his pencil. "Did that brother of yours send you? Too afraid to come himself? I wouldn't shoot him y'know. Much."

There was a giggle and River suddenly dropped into the room, twisting in the air to land on her feet. She paused, beamed at him, and hurled herself onto the bed so she was sitting opposite him, mirroring the night before.

"Were afraid, wanted bird to come to feeder. Council was called and girl was elected to go play fetch. Bring back the stick and get a pat on the head, bring back the newspaper untorn and get a reward."

"O-kay," Mal said slowly, working his way through the teenager's convoluted words. "They sent you to get me, because they thought I wouldn't come for them…and then I'm gonna skip the stick, but the newspaper is me coming with you? And they promised you a reward?"

River beamed at him. "Ninety percent is still an A," she said cheerfully. "You will do well in school."

"Just no apples." She nodded solemnly in agreement.

"No apples," she repeated. Then she brightened, looking around his room.

"The pretty birds are flying again." She hesitated, eyes clouding slightly. "That one's hurt; trying to fly north for the winter." She frowned at him. "Can I fix it?"

"Wha?" he asked, almost looking around for pretty birds himself. "This got nothing to do with killer rabbits, right?" he queried suspiciously. Just cause she'd dropped the subject this morning didn't mean she wasn't bringing it back up.

The annoyed frown she gave him answered his question.

"The bird," she said slowly and clearly. "It's confused, going up the down escalator. The numbers are all there but they don't add up; one plus one should not equal three."

Mal thought on that for a second, his brain processing a whole hell of a lot of metaphors all mashed up together, and then brightened as an answer appeared.

"My accounts book. You want to fix it." He felt pretty proud of figuring it out, considering she was chattering about birds and escalators and who knew what else, but she didn't even blink, just kept staring at him.

He hesitated for a second and then handed it over, watching her carefully.

"Be careful now, it's pretty important and-" the vaguely disgusted look she shot him reminded him why he'd given it to her in the first place; she was a genius. Crazy, but he figured she could balance the money. Even if she got confused, at least he'd managed to waste some more 'school' time.

"Won't work," River muttered, flipping rapidly through the pages before stopping on the one he'd been stuck on.

He reached out for the book. "Well, thanks for takin' a look, I'll just-"

She smacked his hand away and gave him another exasperated stare.

"I am _trying _to fix the bird," she said, once again reverting to that I-am-infinitely-smarter-than-you-of-toddler-intell ect-so-don't-interrupt-me-even-if-I'm-muttering-ab out-unicorns voice.

"You just said it wouldn't work," Mal said in confusion, watching her pencil begin flying across the paper.

"Not the bird, the apple eater," she said absently, pausing in her scribbling to glance around the cabin as if she was looking for the apple in question.

Finding none she returned to her work and let him think things through (really, with all the work he was doing he was going to be burnt out before that blasted school-)

SCHOOL! That was it. Right; school equals apple, got it.

"Oh, you mean the wasting time," he said. River flicked her eyes up at him and then looked back down. "A man can dream Tross," he said. "A man can dream."

River scribbled something else, paused, reviewed, made a note, and then handed the book back.

Mal looked at the edited pages and whistled softly. River's neat hand was spiraled around his in indecipherable x's and equations, looking more like a university math test than a simple accounts book.

In the margins she had written out little scraps of formulas and drawn arrows, and he realized with a start she was trying to show him her work; he had to bite back a smile at that, because he knew from past experience not to laugh (he was proud his sister could hit that hard, but not so glad when she did it to him).

Right in the middle of the page she had circled a string of numbers and symbols that held no meaning for him but that he assumed was the answer to all his financial problems.

He looked up to see her beaming proudly, and gave her an answering smile before handing the book back to her. She stared at it, confused and maybe a little hurt, and he hastened to explain.

"I like it, but I don't exactly _understand_ it. What was it you said? That whole thing about the comprehension? Yeah, I'm gonna take a leaf out of your book here and say that."

River glanced up at him. "It's winter, no more leaves but dead ones."

She looked back down and turned the page in the book, beginning to write again, leaving him pondering the leaves thing.

Before he can ask her to clarify though she finishes and gives the book back, although she keeps the pencil, using it to twirl between her fingers.

Mal looked at the neat script, now thankfully in legible English, and smiled. There, in two columns, was all the expenses he needed and the amount of money he had left. It wasn't a fortune, but it was enough to buy that engine bit he needed.

He paused, looked closer.

"Where'd you find the money?" he asked. River leaned forward and poked a finger at one item.

"Fuel. Unneeded." Mal felt a bit of panic overtake him.

"Let me get this straight, the only way to avoid dying in a fiery explosion of engine is to die slowly and relatively painlessly from oxygen deprivation?"

River nodded and smiled. Mal stared at her.

"No, that's not okay! This is like unicorns and killer bunny rabbits: it's BAD. Except, of course, it's real. Real life." The second that was out of his mouth he flinched and wondered if he could take it back, because if looks could kill, he was pretty sure he'd be dead.

Still glaring River wrenched the book out of his hands, flipped back to the page of indecipherable mumbo jumbo, shoved it into his hands, and then leaped off the bed and climbed rapidly out of the cabin, muttering under her breath.

Mal hesitated, looked at the spirals of letters and numbers, and then jumped up to follow, hurrying out of the room and down the hallway after River, who was skipping serenely, her earlier black mood seemingly forgotten.

He followed her quickly down the hallways, belatedly remembering that he was supposed to head to Inara and Simon, and decided that this was more important. There was something to these squiggles, but he needed River to decipher, and she was headed towards the engine room and not the mess.

Following her into the engine room, he managed not to trip on the pieces of engine all over the floor (he'd already yelled at Kaylee earlier about space monkeys; apparently they were still on the loose) and nodded a hello to his mechanic's cheery greeting.

River paused beside the main reactor and he stopped next to her, waiting for her to acknowledge him.

For all that came, a corpse would have rated higher. Actually, come to think of it, corpses were pretty noticeable. An ant then. A teeny tiny ant. Dead one? He mentally smacked himself. He needed to stop thinking now.

"Hey River," he said. She ignored him, still staring at the reactor and determinedly ignoring him. Kaylee came up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey Cap'n. Aren't ya supposed to be down learning stuff with Simon and Nara?" Mal frowned at the reminder.

"Yeah, but River here went and drew stuff all over my accounts; apparently to stave off us exploding we need to die without air. And now I'm an ant. Possibly a dead one. And here I wanted to be a newspaper."

Kaylee looked at him blankly, slightly creeped out, and he smiled.

"Ignore me." He held out the account book, which was getting more use than just about any time in memorable history. "See if you can understand that."

Kaylee looked, her eyes narrowing, and then looked back up at him.

"I don't know most of this, but I know this bit." She tapped a string of numbers and symbols; looked to be some sort of balancing thing. "It's the fuel mileage. Maybe she was doing somethin' with that."

Both turned to look at River, who tilted her head and gave Mal a _duh_ look through several strands of hair.

"Oh, you figured out a way to use less fuel and go the same distance," Mal said, feeling like he should explain aloud to Kaylee, who was looking between the two with a confused expression.

River gave him another look and spun away from the reactor, grabbing him by the arm and towing him out of the room with her, leaving Kaylee to shout goodbye after them and go back to cleaning the room, wondering over Mal's behavior.

They walked without talking the rest of the way; River radiating smugness and excitement, Mal feeling like he was going to face his doom.

By the time they arrived in the mess and saw the same set-up as the night before (pens, papers, two cortexes, four cups of tea) Mal was feeling vaguely sick and River looked like someone had said she was getting that pet bunny after all, killer cannibalistic fluffiness and all.

When they entered Inara looked up from her place at the table, her face smug as she surveyed Mal. Simon, next to her, looked marginally better than Mal felt.

"Newspaper," River said, and shoved Mal into a chair before settling next to him, reaching for one of the tea cups and smiling happily at Simon.

"Hey now, thought I was an ant," Mal said, grabbing for the tea as well and then feeling his shoulders droop at the fact there was no liquor within.

To her credit, Inara looked totally unruffled. Simon looked back and forth between River and Mal, befuddled.

"You're an ant?" he tried. Then, realizing what he said, he turned an interesting grayish color. "I did _not _mean to say that," he stuttered. "I am so sorry."

Mal felt a smile tug at his mouth, and River snickered into her tea.

"Remarkable observation skills you got there doc," he said, leaning back relaxedly. "Really, you blew me away. I'm an ant. Have you ever heard such truer words Albatross?" River had tears in her eyes.

Simon was stuttering, and you could almost see the smoke his brain was generating as he tried to think of a way to get out of this.

"Now then," Mal continued, "River here said I was a newspaper as well. What have your keen observation skills got to say on that subject? Huh?"

No answers were forthcoming.

"Pity," Mal said. "And here I am in the middle of an identity crisis. For shame."

"I'm-" Simon started, but Mal spoke over him.

"For shame doctor, letting me down in this time of pressing need. I've got to know, ant or newspaper? And all you do is sit there and mumble. Tsk tsk. If you're not careful, I might have a breakdown. Liable to happen too, with all these options I got available. Then where would you be?"

"Up a creek with no paddle?" River suggested hopefully, her voice strained from the effort of not laughing.

Mal threw up his hands and looked at Simon (now green) in disbelief. "There she goes again. Ant, newspaper, or paddle? Take your pick, I'm done with this."

Then he leaned back and watched Simon squirm, terrified of saying the wrong thing.

He and River could probably have watched all day, except for Inara's interruption.

"While I'm sure this is all well and good," she started, her voice calm as she gave Mal her best shut-up-right-now-or-I'll-stab-you-with-my-stilett o-heel glare, "I really think we should be moving on. Don't you?"

And with that, their first lesson began.

**A/N: Okay, no long Author's Note this week because I am sick and writing this chapter with NO CHOCOLATE because otherwise my sister was going to kill me slowly and painfully. Probably by forcing me to watch Dora the Explorer. /shudder. I'd rather stare at the sun for five hours.**

**SO! No crazy ramble…this thing took two and a half hours of straight typing as it is (omigod does my hand huuurt). But probably next chapter or so.**

**Anyways, this was one long chapter to say "Sorry for not writing for so long, please don't kill me. Or make me watch Dora. Or stare at the sun. Or abandon me…great, now I have abandonment issues. See what you've done?"**

**So questions: Is Mal an ant? A dead ant? A corpse? A newspaper? A paddle? A man of mystery?**

**I DEMAND ANSWERS!**

**And if you people have anything you want stuck in the crazy spiel of awesome (FOOORTUNE COOKIES!) I can oblige. Names, random objects, crazy bits of dialogue. I have a use for it all. **

**JUST DON'T LEAVE ME! /starts crying.**

**Now see what you've done? I need a therapist. Preferably a fictitious chocolate-hander outer. Yeah, my therapist is that nice old lady who lives in the gingerbread house. Eats kids? I scoff at ye….oh god she's got an oven RUN FOR YOUR LIVES AND TRIP ALL THE FAT ONES!**

**Did I just type that aloud? (Does that even make sense?) But don't trip people, it's rude. Throwing them to the wolves and whacking them in the face with tree branches is perfectly acceptable. But no tripping.**

**And remember, it's doesn't matter if you're not the fastest runner…just as long as you can outrun someone else.**

**If you're the slowest runner ever…you're screwed. My advice? Hit someone with a tree branch. That'll work. Or maybe just don't go to the house made of gingerbread in the middle of the forest and expect it to all work out.**

**Oh, it's my fault is it? You know what I say? Mneh on ye. Mneh! (I don't really know what that means, just a thing my friend and I say)**

**And you know what else? /hit with tree branch. TAKE THAT!**

…**.Oh dear. I didn't mean this to turn into a semi-ramble. Bad author, bad. My apologies, it's the one in the morning thing talking. **

**I'll go now.**

**But I still want answers! And random diatribe stuff! And if you don't cough some up I'll sic my therapist on you.  
**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

"All right then," said Inara, looking happier now that their lessons were back on track. "Now we can get started. _With no interruptions_," she added, giving Mal a look that dared him to contradict her.

"Yay," he said obligingly. Even Simon cracked a smile at that.

"So, Simon," Inara continued, "Why don't you give Mal a rough outline of what we're doing?"

Simon opened his mouth and then hesitated, gauging Mal's mood carefully. Mal gave him his I'm-on-my-very-best-behavior smile. River started humming again.

"Okay, so Inara thought-"

"Simon."

"Okay, so _we_ thought that maybe we could use the next week to teach you how to behave in a higher social scene liketeachingyouhowtosaypleaseandthankyouandstuffli kethat."

He shut up rapidly and started examining the table. Inara let out a small sigh. Mal tried to pick apart what Simon said. When that failed, he tried to uncross his eyes.

"Do you want to try that again?" he asked Simon. "I don't know about Tross, but I kinda got lost around the time your mouth detached from your brain more than usual."

Simon shot a pleading look at Inara, who stared back unsympathetically.

"You're going to have to teach him this as well," she said. "And then take him clothes shopping."

Simon went whiter. Mal felt his stomach sink.

"Didn't you teach half the crew how to impersonate doctors already?" Inara asked.

"I remember that," sad Mal cheerfully. "Jayne wrote notes down on his arms." Actually, now that he thought of it…

"No cheating," River interjected from beside him, glancing up briefly from her paper, where she was sketching something he couldn't see.

"Yes, but I was paying them, so they wouldn't kill me when I told them they were doing it wrong!" interjected Simon, looking slightly hysterical. "How am I supposed to teach Mal anything when he's been waiting to shoot me from day one?"

Simon did, Mal considered, have a good point. But he wasn't that cruel. Yet. Maybe. Well…he'd play it by ear.

"Mal is not going to shoot you," Inara said in exasperation. Then she gave Mal a sideways glance. "You aren't, are you?"

"Why does everybody think I'll shoot the doc, but not that I'm the best captain ever?" Mal demanded. Honestly, these people. They really needed to get it together.

"Because you will shoot _the doc_," said Inara. "You have been threatening to shoot _the doc_ since just about ever.

"And also, lesson number one: do not refer to a doctor as 'the doc'. It is _Doctor_."

"Fine," said Mal. "I promise not to shoot the _doctor_ if you admit I am the best captain ever."

Inara eyed him. "If you cooperate," she said grudgingly.

Simon had no such qualms. "Yes, you are the absolute best captain ever now please don't shoot me."

Mal smiled. Today might just be a good day after all.

XXXXXXXXX

"All right," said Inara. "_Now_ will you please explain to Mal what the next week will entail?"

Simon turned to Mal, looking more heartened now that he had extracted a promise of non-shooting.

"Basically, we're going to attempt to fit an entire lifetime of proper behavior lessons into seven days. So for today we'll cover the basics, and then the day after that we'll go more in-depth, and the day after that even more so, and so on and so on. Mostly we'll be focusing on manners-"

"Because those are not your strong suit," put in Inara.

"But we'll cover other things as well. Like politics and events and people you'll need to know."

"Make sense so far?" Inara asked.

"I do so have manners!" Mal exclaimed. "When I shoot people, I shoot them _politely._"

Inara closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Simon looked unsure whether to laugh or not. River didn't even look up from her frantic scribbling.

"Mal," Inara said tightly, opening her eyes. "I can assure you that shooting people is frowned upon in high society."

"Even politely?" Mal felt honor-bound to put in.

"Even politely," Inara gritted out between clenched teeth. She took another breath and her face smoothed back into a serene expression. It was, Mal decided, incredibly creepy that she could do that. He was pretty sure that anyone in their right mind would agree.

"Also in these lessons we'll cover such concepts as _knocking_, _saying please and thank you, _and _not resorting to punching people in the face when they something you don't agree with._ All of these things, as I think everyone on this crew agrees, are areas you are sorely lacking in."

"I can so knock," Mal said indignantly. "And I don't always punch people in the face when I don't agree with them."

"No, sometimes you shoot them," Simon put in brightly. He deflated somewhat under the death glare Inara gave him, but Mal hurried to nod his rapid agreement.

"For the last time," Inara said. "You _don't shoot people._"

Mal decided to just give that point up. He was never going to win—he could argue the point until he was blue in the face and Inara wouldn't give an inch.

"I also use the words please and thank you," he added. Even River glanced up from her drawing to give him a disbelieving look.

"Nooo, you don't," said Simon.

"I liked you better when you were quiet," said Mal peevishly. Simon shrugged. Inara took another deep breath. River went back to her paper.

"_All right then_," said Inara firmly. "Let's get started."

Mal frowned. "I thought we were started."

"No, that was you being an interruption," said Inara. "Now we are going to get started. River-"

For the first time she seemed to realize that River was not paying any attention whatsoever and was focusing on her drawing.

"River, sweetie, did you hear what I said?" Inara asked gently, leaning towards River.

Favoritism, Mal decided. That's what this was: favoritism. Maybe if he rubbed soup in his hair Inara would stop telling him off for not knocking.

However, all thought would probably get him was lecture on why that 'wasn't appropriate for high society'. As the unicorns and killer bunny rabbits would agree. Wait-

okay, he really needed to get his mind under control.

Next to him River looked up, pausing in her drawing, and looked blankly at Inara.

"Segments," she said. "Insects, six legs. Three parts. Abdomen, thorax, head. Spiders, arachnids. Eight legs. Seven comes between six and eight. Holy number. Seven days a week. Week divided into segments. Pieces. Insects are segmented as well. Abdomen, thorax, head, repeat. Left over piece of pie but it does not matter as on the seventh day god rested. Let there be light."

She blinked a few times and looked at Simon.

"Do you like my bunny?"

She held up her paper. On it she had sketched a bunny which, on closer inspection, had fangs. Mal grinned.

Without waiting for her brother's comment she put the paper under her chair and placed the pencil back neatly on the table, turning to look at Inara.

"Arachnophobia is the fear of spiders," she said. Inara didn't miss a beat.

"Okay," she said. "Mal, read this." She handed him a portable cortex. When he powered it on a list of words appeared on the screen.

**-Please**

**-Thank you**

**-You're welcome**

**-How are you?**

**-Hello**

**-Goodbye**

**-Excuse me**

**-May I…?**

Mal had a very, very bad feeling about this.

"Um, what's this?" he asked. Inara smiled at him.

"_This _is your homework Mal," she said sweetly. "You are going to go around the ship and use one of these words in a conversation with another person. You must use a different word for each person. You must talk to everyone. When you're done you can drop the cortex off at my shuttle. _And you'll knock_."

"What about River?" Mal demanded. "If I have to suffer, she sure as hell does as well."

Inara glared at him, then turned to River.

"River, sweetie, you can do this if you want, but we know _you_ don't need it." Mal frowned at Inara, who had her back turned, then looked at River and crossed his eyes.

"Teacher's pet," he mouthed. River giggled.

"I'll watch newspaper-man and make sure he is not eaten by spiders or apes," she said cheerfully.

Mal got to his feet and glanced at his cortex, then back up at Inara.

"_Goodbye_," he said firmly, and then turned and left the room, River skipping along behind him.

**A/N: Okay, first and foremost, thank you to everyone who gave their opinions on to what, exactly, Mal is.**

**Surprisingly enough, just about everyone voted for newspaper.**

**Right then, results::::::/drumroll.**

** defying_augury, schur655, oldmoviewatcher, Jason Connor, and a random guest all voted for newspaper.**

**Reasons why—**

_** defying_augury said because:**_**one of those tricky ones where to finish reading an article you have to turn to D6 but the pages keep curling and crinkling and all you really wanted to do was read the comics section, but no. The headline had to be all mysterious and though provoking and now your stuck trying to wrestle the damn pages that refuse to fold the proper direction to find D6 which has conviency's up and vanished.**

_**Shur655 said because:**_**Mal is a newspaper for sure. How do I know this, he should be dead. Newspapers should be dead, Radio, TV, the internet and the great Recession haven't killed em yet. Mal breaks things, people on occasion himself. A newspaper can break things, very large and expensive metal things can be turned into many tons of paperweight by a single newspaper. A newspaper or its cousin the magazine can chop off your extremities (or almost), pretty sure Mal can do that too.**

_**Also, a guest said: **_**I vote newspaper because their hard to read sometimes. Lots of opinions and guess work.**

** defying_augury also gave me a wonderful ant definition, because no one else did**_**: **__**He's like an ant in that he's not so good on his own. On his own he's a very tiny ant in a very big world, but with other ants, his friends and family, they can get things done that none of them could do on their own. Serenity is the queen who get's testy when her workers ignore her for too long.**__**  
**_

**Yay, thanks for all the wonderful definitions! I actually had no idea what he was….I just wrote it because I was slightly insane at the time….well, that's a lie. Slightly Insane is a state of mind for me. I was a lot more that slightly insane when I wrote that.**

**And Jason Connor said for a random object how about River with an eyepatch?**

**The immediate question is why is River wearing an eyepatch? Perhaps she's protesting something…like a chocolate deficiency. Or Simon sticking her full of needles. Or the fact Kaylee stole her apple.**

**Of course, Jayne would not even consider that as he would see her with that eyepatch and think she caused herself grievous injury with the use of forbidden sharp and shiny objects and run away screaming and lock himself in his bunk. Which, when you think about it, is not really that great of an over-reaction.**

**I mean, if River was skipping around the ship with an eyepatch and presumably running into things to make a point and terrifying Jayne and Simon and probably everyone else, would you not think she hurt herself? Because let's be honest, River wouldn't get hurt unless she wanted to—with the exception, of course, of a few times.**

**But you'd have to wonder. And your thoughts would wander to dangerously sharp implements in the hands of our favorite telepathic space assassin. Much as we love her, how many of us would want to be around her when she's sporting an eyepatch and new knife/scalpel/pen?**

**Although she might just be wearing it as a fashion statement. For which I applaud her. The girl wears combat boots with over-sized dresses. Adding an eyepatch is just the icing on the cake.**

**Maybe she's a pirate. Now we need a parrot. I've always wanted a parrot. It would be so cool! I could teach it to say OFF WITH THEIR HEADS! **

**Wait. That's Alice in Wonderland. Oh well. Still would be cool. Then, of course, we'd have to play croquet. With flamingos. I wonder how the flamingos feel about that. Did they apply for the jobs? What would the newspaper even say? Wanted: flamingos to be used as croquet mallets. Must have hard head and excellent orientation. Ability to not make the Queen of Hearts mad a plus.**

**I wonder if they would get a benefits package. I'd think that you'd really need a doctor after a while. And speaking of Alice in Wonderland, is not the Mad Hatter totally beyond awesome?**

**But back to the pirate: she'd need a pirate name. Captain Moonbrain? It kind of sounds like Captain Blackbeard…I wonder if she'd have a hook. Or a peg leg. Maybe both. Hmmm…now I want to be a pirate. I'm going to go find a sword. And chocolate. I'd bury the chocolate, but that would just be a waste of good sugar.**


End file.
